Western War of the Flanaess
by Crouton-Robber
Summary: A small conflict enlarges and engulfs all of the March of Sterich, and possibly more.
1. Default Chapter

Legal Whatnot  
  
I do not own Dungeons and Dragons, TSR, or even Greyhawk. However, I do own the characters and plot in this story. Don't use it on a website without giving me due credit. Turns out part of my last story was used on one, and not a mention of Crouton Robber anywhere.  
  
**Authors Notes**  
Due to the Fanfiction decree, this is where all author's notes shall be kept. If I have any of course.  
  
Sterich Stuff  
  
There are some things in Greyhawk that are quite different from other campaigns, which I will detail now. Whenever the characters refer to a lion, that means it's a gold piece. The money standard is as follows, and Icy Mike, there are no character stats, just money, and the months of the year.  
  
Coinage: griffon (pp) lion (gp) eagle (ep) hawk (sp) sparrow (cp)  
  
Greyhawk Calendar  
  
Fireseek - Winter  
Readying - Spring  
Coldeven - Spring  
Planting - Low Summer  
Flocktime - Low Summer  
Wealsun - Low Summer  
Reaping - High Summer  
Goodmonth - High Summer  
Harvester - High Summer  
Patchwall - Autumn  
Ready'reat - Autumn  
Sunsebb - Winter  
  
Also, anytime anyone in the story refers to a greenskin, he or she means a goblin, giant, orc, or other such humanoid. I apologize to anyone with green skin who might be reading this, and no racist comment was intended. Now that we have that out of the way, let's start the story. 


	2. A Job?

Ayon Archer woke to his older brother's face. Keevon was still shaking him and Ayon grumbled out, "What time is it, and what do you want?"  
  
"Get up, it's around noon, and we've got a job. I signed us up for it at eight this morning." He threw the shade to the small room open and let the sunlight wash over the brothers' olive skin and black hair.  
  
Ayon winced, but started stretching under the covers of his bed. "Since when do we take jobs?"  
  
Keevon picked up a leather vest and chain shirt from the floor and threw it at the foot of the bed. "Since the fact that these dwarves are offering twenty lions a day. That's quite a bit of gold."  
  
Ayon whistled at the amount and reached over the bed for good traveling clothes, his blue eyes eventually finding what he was looking for. He pulled the clothes over his muscular body and stepped out of bed.  
  
"What're we going to do on this job of yours?"  
  
"Don't know," Keevon started, "maybe mountain work. I mean, the dwarf who hired me said it was going to be a expedition of sorts. But hurry up, we've got one hour to pack, tell dad at the parish, and meet our new comrades." He started scooping things off of the floor. "I'm already packed and ready, so I guess I'll help you out."  
  
"Alright," Ayon held his hand out, "Give me my pack," his tone now hurried, "There should be some trail rations in the chest over there."  
  
It took the two twenty minutes to fully pack Ayon's bag, stuffing everything from a bedroll to rope in and on the massive piece of equipment. Eventually they were ready, so they strapped on their weapons, shouldered their bags, and exited the family home. Their winter cloaks and their boots easily kept the winter chill and snow of late Sunsebb out of their bodies.  
  
They started through the small town of Prashid, waving to people they knew and eventually reached the end of town. There, settled in the snow, rested a small parish of Mayaheine, run by the two boys father, Kyle Archer. They didn't see him in the small church, so they headed around back to see him teaching a citizen's defense class, which was useful on the western borders of Sterich. Since the country bordered the Crystalmist Mountains, it was constantly raided. In fact, because of these raids, the country fell into greenskin hands during the Greyhawk Wars, even though it was later reclaimed by exiled nobles.  
  
Ayon waved for the elder Archer, and finally managed to wrest him away from his class. Ayon pointed at his brother, and both started off to Keevon. Still panting from the exercise, the fifty year old cleric sheathed his sword and stretched his muscles when he reached Keevon, looking up in his sons face .  
"What is it that you want?"  
  
Keevon and Ayon exchanged a long look. Both knew that since winter was starting up, raids by the greenskins would pick up as well. Both also knew the town needed all able bodied young men and women to help fend off these raids. And more still, both knew that unless they got jobs soon, their father would be unceremoniously kicking them out of the house.  
  
Keevon started, "Well, Dad, we've got a job."  
  
The elder Archer smiled, "Well good for you, it's about time. I'm sure you'll do a good job, but I must attend to my class. I'll see you at dinner." He turned and took a step when Ayon clapped a gloved hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Dad," he began, "this isn't an ordinary job."  
  
Kyle turned back and his expression darkened.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked in a dark tone, rubbing his goatee, which was always a bad sign.  
  
"Well," Ayon gulped, "We're going to be gone for awhile, maybe over a month." His father's expression darkened more. "Well, from what Keevon tells me," Ayon persisted, "we've been hired by dwarves. To go to the 'Mists. Maybe the 'Mists anyway. But it's twenty lions a day."  
  
Kyle's face went from a dark tan to a blistering red and the brothers braced themselves for an outburst.  
  
"A month! Good grief, you two, you know we need you during the next few months! And dwarves, no offense to them, means trouble, especially in the 'Mists!" His voice dropped and so did his head. "But, at twenty lions a day, I understand you can't resist." He turned and headed back to his class, which had frozen when they heard the outburst. "Take care of yourselves alright?" he shouted over his shoulder. "Come back to me alive boys."  
  
The two grinned at their unbelievable opportunity. Keevon glanced at the sun and cursed.  
  
"Come on, we've only got a few minutes!" and sprinted off, towards the other side of town, Ayon on his heels.  
  
***  
The two boys arrived at the front of the Green Dragon inn a few minutes later, winded, and looking for a box to lean on. The two collapsed on the ground and a hearty dwarf laugh cut through their wheezing.  
  
"Why you must be the two scrappers I hired!" A dwarf came from around a large wagon on the other side of the road, and walked over to the two brothers. He helped Keevon up, and looked far up at him.  
  
"Well, I know you Keevon, is this, your younger brother?" Keevon nodded and Ayon got up. He took a good look at the dwarf. He was typical dwarven height with an incredibly black beard and a stocky, strong figure. He held out his hand to Ayon. "I'm Lord McCullough. I happen to be a part of the clan of the same name." Ayon shook the dwarfs hand in a hearty handshake and asked a question at the same time.  
  
"So what are we doing on this, ah, 'expedition?'" Ayon asked. McCullough just pointed at the massive wagon. It had supplies and barrels strapped on and ready to go.  
  
"Hauling that big mother of a wagon through a few trails and into my town in the mountains. We've got a desperate need for supplies."  
  
The dwarf motioned for the brothers to follow him and he led them to the wagon. Gesturing at all the barrels and crates he said, "This is going to mean new life for my people. These boxes contain all the necessities. We've got weapons and a few magical goods in here. We've also managed to procure some dried meat, a wide variety of greens and most importantly, ale." He laughed at his own joke and the brothers snickered along with him. "Now," McCullough sputtered through laughing, "You meet the rest of the men you'll be traveling with."  
  
The three men went back across the street and entered the inn. McCullough motioned at the back corner table where six other men were sitting.  
  
"I'm goin' back to the wagon to watch after it. We leave at three, but just follow Dinder there." He pointed at a dwarf with fiery red hair and beard.  
  
The brothers nodded and headed to the table. Greetings were exchanged and Ayon learned much through conversation. Four of the men they were traveling with were dwarves; the other two were men from town. Ayon had seen their faces but didn't know them personally. The eight men chatted for an hour or so, but even the dwarves drank sparsely, since a goblin could catch them drunk, and things would not go well for the drunkard. Eventually however, Dinder cut the conversation short and told everyone to follow him, and that it was time to go.  
  
It was snowing now, and everyone tightened their cloaks. They walked over to the wagon, now hitched with two horses.  
  
"Well, mates, I've got a surprise!" McCullough's voice came from behind the wagon. "Say hello to a few mounts I managed to get 'hold of." The dwarf walked around the wagon pulling four horses. The humans all grinned but the dwarves began to look slightly green. McCullough noticed this and laughing, handed each human one of the reins. "Use 'em well lads, you'll be riding outer ring." The brothers and mercenaries nodded.  
  
"Shall we be off?" asked Alexander, the group's arcane specialist, another hired hand. McCullough nodded.  
  
"Indeed lads, lets be off."  
  
Then, without another word spoken, the party mounted their horses, and started off on the road, toward the mountain trails. 


End file.
